The life and times of Walker E

Its funny how climbing can make other things in your life so insignificant. Yesterday my friend Brandon and I hiked to the top of Yosemite falls and repelled down into the notch of lost arrow spire. We had been planning on doing something a little out of our comfort zone for the last few weeks, but it kept getting pushed back. So finally we made it happen. As I said before, I have been in Yosemite valley for most of the last two months, making 200 miles dashes to the bay area for work and a few showers. But the weather has changed and the bouldering season is over. Each day is hotter then the last. Even waking up as early as possible, lets say seven, is not enough time to warm up and give projects enough attention before it is too hot and your greassing off holds unable to cool down your hands. I returned to the valley 5 days ago thinking that I could send thriller. I had stuck the
ice cream hold a few times the week before and was anxious to continue progress. But small windows of cool temps weren't enough and together with my ever worsening skin I said to my self next fall I'll come back stronger and try again.

SO the spire. the first pitch is fine its not very exposed and its pretty straight forward with a lot of fix bolts. I came around the last bit and peered up the off-width crack to see Brandon's smiling face, he just laughed as I got used to jummaring with my ascenders scraping the inside of the crack. I pulled my self onto the small ledge and Brandon set off on the next pitch. Aiding is slow, so I got pretty bored at each belay and even the adrenaline was wearing off as I fed rope out once every minute or so (at least thats what it felt like, I had no watch). I threw a baseball sized rock off the ledge and watched it plummet forever until it exploded at the base followed by a small pop seconds later. Finally after about an hour of sitting at the belay, the rope was pulled taught and a few jerks on the end of the line was my cue that he had made it to the top. I Gathered up the slings and beaners and inched my way along the ledge. As I came around the corner of the ledge the rock sheared off for 2000 feet straight down, with my feet dangling and the ends of the ropes flicking in the wind I snapped a few pictures. This was by far the most exposed I had ever been. I mean sport climbing can be scary but not when your just hanging on the end of the rope. At this point I remembered a joke that this guy in camp four told around a fire. why is sport climbing and getting your dick sucked by some guy the same? It feels good at first but then you look down and think this is kinda gay. I guess theres something to be said about big air. Anyway back to the wall I got my head on and started jugging up as quickly as possible but still very cautious for I had no idea of what kind of limits there are with all this gear. Scraping over the slab I gain the mattress sized summit, Still Brandon smiling. pheww!!! a big sigh of relief as I sit down on solid ground. But quickly I am reminded that we still have to tyrolean back across. Now comes the exciting part. Brandon pulls the rope that I have been trailing since the repel into the notch, tight. He sets off, hes not smiling. A bit of holding your breath and he's across. Now its my turn unfortunately my set up is not very advanced and the traverse seems to be ten times harder for me. Now that I look back I realize I needed my ascenders on one rope instead of on on each side. I was struggling trying to not let fear in, occasionally I would steal a glance at the ground thousands of feet straight below me. Just a few more feet and I can touch the rock, not that I am safer but your brain works in funny ways. I grovel up the slab exhausted my arms burning, until now my brain has been firing adrenaline like crazy trying to keep me alive but now that I have my feet planted on the ground I feel the burn, its sooo good. nothing in the world matters, I am alive and it is over.